


A Letter to the Opera Ghost

by Neezlebums



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Christmas Invitation, Fluff, Just a written letter to a friend, Love Confession, M/M, a little gay, post-Christine’s death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neezlebums/pseuds/Neezlebums
Summary: Just a short written letter Raoul wrote to Erik amidst his gay panic.





	A Letter to the Opera Ghost

December 23rd, 18XX

Dearest Erik,

As you are probably aware from the overabundance of festive decor littering the streets, Christmas is approaching soon. Very soon, in fact. So soon that I’m starting to think perhaps I waited too long and I might just be writing this in vain. But before I change my mind, I’ll go ahead and get to the point.

I was merely writing to ask if you had any plans to spend your Christmas Eve. And if you would like to spend it with some company. Company being me, location being my place. That is, if you didn’t have plans already, of course. If you do, then I ask you to kindly disregard this letter. Feed it to your fireplace, perhaps.

I’m well aware that this invitation is at a very short notice, therefore I apologize if I caught you at an inconvenient time and I understand if you are not able to make it. Honestly I shouldn’t have waited so long just to write this, but perhaps you can empathize with my hesitation.

You see, I’ve had a lot to think about these past few days. Or maybe I should rephrase that. You’ve given me a lot to think about these past few days.

You know just as well as I do how hard these recent years have been after our dearest Christine’s… passing. I couldn’t bare to look at you during the start—or anyone, for that matter. It was a long while before I could say a word to you. 

But then it all changed—or started to change when I received a ticket to La bohème in the mail.

I was rather suspicious of it at first. After all there was no letter attached or return address on the envelope. Only a ticket to an opera being held in that oh-so familiar building. For that reason I almost outright refused to go, but something about the mysterious circumstances of the ticket drew me in. I thought perhaps it was Christine sending a message from the afterlife. 

The last thing I expected was for it to be from you.

I didn’t know that until I arrived there, of course. I didn’t even realize that the shadowy figure sitting next to me was you all along until the lights came on for the intermission. I’m sure you could tell by the expression on my face how much of a shock it was for me to see you there. I left the theater immediately and you came after me. You apologized for being so mysterious because you knew that if I was aware the invitation was from you, I would never go. You explained to me how you just wanted to see how I was doing and by some miracle, you convinced me to stay for the rest of the show. 

Perhaps I was feeling lonely, in need of someone to talk to after all that time I spent swallowing my grief. And perhaps, as someone who felt the same way I felt and knew what I was going through, I saw an opportunity in you. Whatever the reason, I stayed with you even after the show and we talked for longer than I’ve ever talked to anyone after Christine’s death. And every so often weeks we would meet again, until it became every so often days.

As I sit here today at my candlelit desk, I still ponder how, out of anyone in the world who could’ve helped to pull me out of my drunken misery, you were the only one who could do it. I remember how much I used to absolutely despise you, and yet… within a year and a half, you became my closest friend.

So, what makes these past few days so different, you might ask? Well I’m not entirely sure if you felt it as well, but… for a while now, our meetings have had a different kind of atmosphere than usual. I’ve been feeling more at ease with you than with anyone else, doing anything else. I’ve been inviting you to more places because I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you. I can’t pinpoint exactly when this new feeling began, but I think it was sometime after the day at the pub when I heard you laugh—genuinely laugh for the first time. It was a strange moment, as if filled me with the warmest feeling I’d felt in years. It’s a feeling I don’t think I’ve ever felt around anyone but Christine, and I can’t believe I even wrote that down but it’s true. It terrifies and excites me all at once, and I’m not sure if you even know what I’m going on about or if this just sounds like the ramblings of a madman, but it’s all I’ve been thinking about for these past few days.

I’m not entirely sure how to interpret these feelings but I think, if you don’t mind—and I understand perfectly if you do—I think I’d like to explore this new feeling a little more with you. So I’d like to invite you over for Christmas. If you’d like that.

I’m not sure where exactly I should address this letter to, so I shall leave it in Box 5 as I’m sure no one else but you would think to be there. I hope this letter finds you soon and that I’m not terribly unlucky with my terrible timing.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope to see you here, but again, I understand wholly if you decide not to.

I suppose I should sign this off now before I decide to burn this letter myself. So for now, farewell, my masked friend.

Sincerely,

Raoul de Chagny

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first oneshot I’ve completed I think and the first fic I’ve posted onto this site so yaaay. Written for a POTO Pride contest. Please criticize the heck out of me so I can get better!


End file.
